Monthly Archives: August 2014

Caitlin Trussell on August 17, 2014 at Augustana Lutheran Church in Denver

Matthew 15:21-28 Jesus left that place and went away to the district of Tyre and Sidon. 22 Just then a Canaanite woman from that region came out and started shouting, “Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David; my daughter is tormented by a demon.” 23 But he did not answer her at all. And his disciples came and urged him, saying, “Send her away, for she keeps shouting after us.” 24 He answered, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” 25 But she came and knelt before him, saying, “Lord, help me.” 26 He answered, “It is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” 27 She said, “Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.” 28 Then Jesus answered her, “Woman, great is your faith! Let it be done for you as you wish.” And her daughter was healed instantly.

Each of us grew up somewhere. Some of us grew up on farms in the Midwest, others in cities, some in the South, a few of us in other countries. Myself, I grew up on the East and West coasts – I like to say I’m bicoastal. My husband grew up in a mid-sized Nebraskan town. My kids are growing up as Colorado natives. Some of you are likely 3rd, 4th, or 5th, generation Coloradans.

The point is, we all grew up somewhere. This means our childhoods have a somewhere, a location, a place. Chances are good that our place also has people. Whether these people were good to us or not, our childhood places have people. These people birthed us, taught us, fed us…formed us. You get the idea. As children, we grow up in the places of our people. They become our people the minute we’re born into them.

Flipping it around, the minute someone is born they are born into us. We become their people. This happens at a lot of different levels all at once. The child is born into a family, into a neighborhood, into a region. On any given day, you might hear me say something like, “My people are heading over to a swim meet;” or “My people are going to lay low this weekend.” However we acknowledge it, however much we like or dislike our people. Our people are there – intentionally and unintentionally forming us and us forming them.

In the previous stories to ours today, Jesus is moving between deserted places with the people he was born into, in his country of birth. In the story today, Jesus is in a new place, the district of Tyre and Sidon, with a new people, the Canaanites. And, oh, this Canaanite woman. She wastes no time in getting Jesus’ attention. The exchange that follows is shocking. Did Jesus just call her a “dog?” Biblical scholars wrangle with this text early and often.

In our wrangling with this text, we can see that the disciples want no part of this woman as they ask Jesus to send her away. “Send her away, for she keeps shouting after us.” Jesus doesn’t send her away but tells her that he is, “sent only to the lost sheep of Israel.” His place, his people. Did he say this to voice what everyone else was thinking? Might that also be why he made that “dog” comment? After all, the Canaanite people are the people of mixed marriages and conflated religious practices. They are not to be trusted nor visited. They are unclean, impure. Pick a nasty label and insert it here. There is bad blood between Jesus’ people and the Canaanite people.

The Canaanite woman knows all these things – bad blood included. And still, this mother shouts after Jesus and the disciples. She demands their attention. Not on her own behalf but on behalf of her child. She and her child do not live in a vacuum – meaning they do not live only as two people disconnected from other people. Oh no, this woman’s shouting has bigger implications for the whole people.

On a small scale, and maybe with less shouting, this congregation similarly brings children the necessary care they need. Through the baptismal font, children are baptized in what can easily be interpreted or dismissed as a sentimental moment. But it is oh so much bigger than that. Through the waters of baptism is a demand that God keep God’s promises to this child. Through worship, children are in the mix with their sounds, voices, and bodies included right along with the whole people of God here. Through the Children & Family Ministry, children have Sunday School, Squiggle Time, Youth Groups and more to meet them where they are developmentally so that they may find words for their faith. Through the Music Ministry, children sing and make music all the while connecting with God, each other, and tradition. Through the Augustana Early Learning Center, children receive care and instruction Monday through Friday – some on full scholarship, some on subsidized tuition. Through Augustana Arts’ City Strings program, neighborhood children receive violin and music instruction regardless of inability to pay.

As a congregation, we are similar to the Canaanite woman. There are children in our care and we make every effort to do right by them which sometimes means doing the hard thing not the easy thing. But what else might the story of her faith hold for us? We do violence to this woman’s story if we simply rip her from the page and guilt everyone into advocacy. Advocacy being the act of lending your voice to those who cannot advocate for themselves. I think if we have any chance of seeing our story in her story we need to take a detour.

For this brief detour, I invite Oswald Bayer into our conversation. Bayer is Professor Emeritus of Systematic Theology at the University of Tübingen in Germany as well as an ordained pastor of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in Württemberg.[2] Stated very simply, Bayer’s argument for a Christian ethic goes something that goes like this:[3]

Everything we have is gift – from the basics of food and water to help in times of sickness and imprisonment. The quintessential act of our dependence is over a meal; a meal of fellowship “where separation, isolations, and loneliness are overcome.” We are truly dependent creatures – dependent on God and each other for everything. In this dependence, we are able to see our “own fellow human beings simply as those who find themselves in the same situation.” I especially like how Pastor Bayer puts this next part, “Thus the least of our brothers and sisters (Matt. 25.40) will not just be the others, strangers, with whom we are called to show solidarity…Rather, from the very outset we are those people…We are the same as them, for we too are in fundamental need.”[4] In other words, those people are our people!

Jesus sits across the table from the woman who demands a place at it for herself and her child. In Bayer’s words, this is a meal of fellowship that overcomes separation, isolation, and loneliness. By extension, Jesus sits us at a table that overcomes separation, isolation, and loneliness. And we are given a voice at this meal on behalf of our children.

Make no mistake, prioritizing children is not sentimental, nor is it easy. This means that when our plans and systems fail children, we are free to launch into those conversations to help those children. These conversations might happen in our neighborhoods, in our congregation, in our country. These conversations are real, right now, as we talk congregationally about improving security in the Early Learning Center or group dynamics in Confirmation. These conversations are real as we talk nationally and globally about children at the border, children in Ferguson (Missouri), children in Palestine, children in Liberia.

Some of us may believe that helpful action should happen locally and some may believe that it makes sense to focus helpful action globally. However, local and global concerns are not mutually exclusive but part of the whole. So simply pick a place to start and start helping. We can so quickly fall silent when the children who need help begin to number in the hundreds or thousands or hundreds of thousands. Along with falling silent, it’s a quick slip into inaction.

Dr. Keith Payne studies the collapse of compassion in the face of fear.[5] In his work, he is triggered by similar comments from both Stalin and Mother Teresa. Stalin reputedly said that the death of one person is a tragedy; the death of a million is a statistic; and Mother Theresa said, “If I look at the mass I will never act.” In Dr. Payne’s words, “When Stalin and Mother Teresa agree on a point, I sit up and pay attention.”[6] The point is that in the face of great numbers of people suffering we end up doing nothing because of our own fear. We fear that we can’t possibly help them all so we end up helping none. We fear that taking on so much pain crumbles our shaky hold on our own emotions so we shut them down and focus someplace else. Stalin counted on it. Mother Teresa acted in spite of it. Most of us are neither Stalin nor Mother Teresa. Regardless, pick a place to start helping children and go for it.

The Canaanite woman shouted at Jesus across cultural boundaries on behalf of her child. In part, these are real boundaries of culture and race that take care and respect to navigate successfully across our differences. But in total, these boundaries collapse under the weight of the cross. What Jesus Christ does for you, Jesus Christ does for all. The people you think of as your people who come from your places is an artificial category of location.

Christ’s death on the cross makes all people your people.

Because Jesus died on a cross for all people, including you.

Responding to the sermon, the congregation sings this Hymn of the Day:

Lord Jesus you shall be my song as I journey
I’ll tell everybody about you wherever I go
You alone are our life and our peace and our love
Lord Jesus you shall be my song as I journey

Lord Jesus, I’ll praise you as long as I journey
May all of my joy be a faithful reflection of you
May the earth and the sea and the sky join my song
Lord Jesus, I’ll praise you as long as I journey

As long as I live, Jesus, make me your servant
To carry your cross and to share all your burdens and tears
For you saved me by giving your body and blood
As long as I live, Jesus, make me your servant

I fear in the dark and the doubt of my journey
But courage will come with the sound of your steps by my side
And with all of the family you saved by your love
We’ll sing to the dawn at the end of our journey

[3] Oswald Bayer. Freedom in Response: Lutheran Ethics: Sources and Controversies (Oxford: University Press, 2007), 19-20. In these two pages, Dr. Bayer offers a succinct argument for categorical gift over and above Kant’s categorical imperative. I recommend them to you if you, like me, are into that sort of mind candy.

Caitlin Trussell on August 3, 2014 at Augustana Lutheran Church in Denver

[sermon follows the Bible readings of Genesis and Matthew]

Genesis 37:1-4, 12-28 Jacob settled in the land where his father had lived as an alien, the land of Canaan. 2This is the story of the family of Jacob. Joseph, being seventeen years old, was shepherding the flock with his brothers; he was a helper to the sons of Bilhah and Zilpah, his father’s wives; and Joseph brought a bad report of them to their father. 3Now Israel [aka Jacob] loved Joseph more than any other of his children, because he was the son of his old age; and he had made him a long robe with sleeves. 4But when his brothers saw that their father loved him more than all his brothers, they hated him, and could not speak peaceably to him.12Now his brothers went to pasture their father’s flock near Shechem. 13And Israel [aka Jacob] said to Joseph, “Are not your brothers pasturing the flock at Shechem? Come, I will send you to them.” He answered, “Here I am.” 14So he said to him, “Go now, see if it is well with your brothers and with the flock; and bring word back to me.” So he sent him from the valley of Hebron.
He came to Shechem, 15and a man found him wandering in the fields; the man asked him, “What are you seeking?” 16“I am seeking my brothers,” he said; “tell me, please, where they are pasturing the flock.” 17The man said, “They have gone away, for I heard them say, ‘Let us go to Dothan.'” So Joseph went after his brothers, and found them at Dothan. 18They saw him from a distance, and before he came near to them, they conspired to kill him. 19They said to one another, “Here comes this dreamer. 20Come now, let us kill him and throw him into one of the pits; then we shall say that a wild animal has devoured him, and we shall see what will become of his dreams.” 21But when Reuben heard it, he delivered him out of their hands, saying, “Let us not take his life.” 22Reuben said to them, “Shed no blood; throw him into this pit here in the wilderness, but lay no hand on him” — that he might rescue him out of their hand and restore him to his father. 23So when Joseph came to his brothers, they stripped him of his robe, the long robe with sleeves that he wore; 24and they took him and threw him into a pit. The pit was empty; there was no water in it.25Then they sat down to eat; and looking up they saw a caravan of Ishmaelites coming from Gilead, with their camels carrying gum, balm, and resin, on their way to carry it down to Egypt. 26Then Judah said to his brothers, “What profit is it if we kill our brother and conceal his blood? 27Come, let us sell him to the Ishmaelites, and not lay our hands on him, for he is our brother, our own flesh.” And his brothers agreed. 28When some Midianite traders passed by, they drew Joseph up, lifting him out of the pit, and sold him to the Ishmaelites for twenty pieces of silver. And they took Joseph to Egypt.

Matthew 14:22-33 Immediately he made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead to the other side, while he dismissed the crowds. 23And after he had dismissed the crowds, he went up the mountain by himself to pray. When evening came, he was there alone, 24but by this time the boat, battered by the waves, was far from the land, for the wind was against them. 25And early in the morning he came walking toward them on the sea. 26But when the disciples saw him walking on the sea, they were terrified, saying, “It is a ghost!” And they cried out in fear. 27But immediately Jesus spoke to them and said, “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.”

28Peter answered him, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” 29He said, “Come.” So Peter got out of the boat, started walking on the water, and came toward Jesus. 30But when he noticed the strong wind, he became frightened, and beginning to sink, he cried out, “Lord, save me!” 31Jesus immediately reached out his hand and caught him, saying to him, “You of little faith, why did you doubt?” 32When they got into the boat, the wind ceased. 33And those in the boat worshiped him, saying, “Truly you are the Son of God.”

[sermon starts here]

A few years ago, before I started seminary, a friend of mine and I thought it would be fun to teach a class in Lent. We picked a book and spread it out over the Wednesdays from Ash Wednesday to Easter. It was John Ortberg’s book, “If You Want to Walk on Water, You’ve Got to Get Out of the Boat.”[1] It worked because it was set up to teach over six weeks. That right there was have the curriculum battle already won. It also worked because Lent is a time of reflection. The gist of the book is to consider how to take faith out for a spin, or a walk on water if-you-will, and see what Jesus will reveal about you and your faith in the midst of it all. A good time was had by some.

In the 10 or so years since then, I’ve continued to think about faith and life and the idea of taking faith out for a spin. You can see how this metaphor works in combination with the Gospel text. Peter climbs out of the boat during a storm, panics, starts to sink, and Jesus reaches out and pulls him up from the water.

This story of Christ’s command, Peter’s response, and his failed attempt at water-walking without Jesus is one that lends itself quickly to the metaphor spun out by Pastor Ortberg. But I’d like to throw a line under the metaphor a bit and fish out one of the assumptions at work. Specifically hooking an assumption about how we read the text as preparation for metaphorical water walking. This assumption has to do with agency.

Agency is one way of thinking about whether a person is able to assert themselves into a situation and act in the world.[2] Peter is living out of what tends to be interpreted as his own agency. Meaning that he sees Jesus walking on the water, he wants to join Jesus on the water, so he asks Jesus to command him onto the water. Peter’s agency results in action in the world.

In the West, agency is a big deal because it often means that we have choices and can make decisions that affect our lives.[3] It is common to hear assumptions of agency in the language that we use in the West.

Joseph’s story is a counter-example to the popular reading of Peter. Joseph’s brothers strip him of his agency as they strip his coat off of his shoulders. The brothers’ frustration and jealousy boil over into a plan that first hopes to leave Joseph for dead, then switches to leave him in a pit, and finally ends up with Joseph sold into slavery and on his way to Egypt. There is no choice, no action, no chance for Joseph to exercise agency in this situation.

If we look closely at the verse numbers we heard today, we can also see that there are verses in the middle of the story that we don’t get to read or hear. Old Testament scholar Cameron Howard points out that these missing verses, “highlight the escalating animosity between Joseph and his brothers.”[4] Three times the brothers hate Joseph – first because:

Jacob loves him the most; then they hate Joseph “even more” because he has special dreams, and yet again they hate Joseph “even more because of his dreams and his words”. He predicts his whole family will one day bow to him, and he is obnoxiously delighted to report that information. Even Jacob takes Joseph to task for this hubris.[5]

In the missing verses, Howard highlights, “Joseph’s culpability in the growing rift in his relationship with his brothers; the dysfunction in Joseph’s family stems not from any one source, but rather from the brokenness of all parties.”[6]

It’s the “brokenness of all parties” in Dr. Howard’s comments that caught my attention. In part I’m thinking about the “brokenness of all parties” because there is a lot going on in the world that begs not only our attention but begs us to be part of constructive conversation and action – not the least of which is the current war in Israel and Palestine. A crisis where there is a lot of talk about who’s right and who’s wrong; a lot of hatred disguised as logic – and children, CHILDREN, are being put in and caught in the crosshairs. I’m thinking of “brokenness of all parties” because this kind of language is part of public rhetoric when we want to neutralize culpability, when we want to level the playing field in such a way so we don’t have to decide who might really be in the wrong. We use the statement that “we’re all broken” and suddenly we excuse ourselves from taking a stand.

Joseph’s brothers hate Joseph because he is arrogant and obnoxious. Their hate fuels a plan to commit murder that is then downgraded by an enterprising brother into the lesser charge of human trafficking…wait…what?! It is a “brokenness of both parties” that culminates in an 11 against 1 forced trip to Egypt? The danger here is that pretty soon someone is going to say that Joseph deserves it. Many of us will look the other way as the caravan moves on down the road, believing that Joseph is a free agent who played his agency right into his own enslavement.

It is fair to say that our hatreds get tangled into our thinking. The danger is when we start justifying our hatred as reasonable. Hatred hides itself inside of something we now call logic. It’s likely that our own hatreds disguised as logic aren’t as obvious as Joseph’s brothers. But the effects of justifying our logical hatred can be just as devastating – in our own families and half-way around the world.

Peter has a moment in that boat when he wants to join Jesus on the water. His reasons are not given. Peter’s reasons are often imagined by Biblical readers as noble – just look how much Peter wants to be close to Jesus. But Peter’s reasons could just as easily be fueled by arrogance or showmanship. He says to Jesus, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” Peter ties his own water-walking ambition to a word of faith and he sinks like a stone.

The word of faith we proclaim can so quickly attach itself to our own plans, ambitions, and hatreds. Effectively twisting faith to justify our own ends. It is a common enough occurrence that many people on the outside of faith want no part of it. Thankfully, time-and-again, Jesus continues to reach through the storm, dragging us toward life as we flail around to find footing. Jesus secures us through a community of the cross, a group of people who in various ways cry out with Peter, “Lord, save me!” And, across the spectrum of our faith and doubt, Jesus saves…

[2] Please note that this is a loose definition complicated by all the concepts hanging around the edges of agency such as automony, free-will, theological anthropology, ontology, bondage of the will, etc.

[3] The concept of agency holds whether it means Western thought of the 21st century or the Wild, Wild, American West.

"Caitlin Trussell tells the truth of our Christian Faith with so much kindness, wisdom and conviction that I am always left wanting more. She's one heck of a preacher and speaker."

- Rev. Nadia Bolz-Weber, founding pastor of House for All Sinners and Saints (ELCA Denver, Co), Published Author, International Speaker, patheos.com/blogs/nadiabolzweber/

"Caitlin Trussell approaches the gospel with the passion of an evangelist, the creativity of an artist, and the pastoral sensitivity of a loving parent. She unfailingly helps everyday Christians find God in their reading and hearing of the Scriptures and always finds a message that both challenges and comforts us with the good news of Christ. She is, in short, a superb teacher and preacher of the Word."

Rev. Dr. David Lose, President of Lutheran Theological Seminary at Philadelphia; and writer at www.davidlose.net

"Caitlin is one of the best preachers I’ve had the privilege of learning from. She has a gift to open new places in the mind and heart – for audiences new to the message of God’s love, and for “old hands” like me as well! With her breadth of experience – raising kids, nursing cancer victims, pastoring people in prisons and hospice, and graduating from seminary – she brings depth and wisdom.”